


Common Practices

by marguerite_26



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Blow Jobs, Coercion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:19:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when Merlin thinks Arthur is good and just. And there are times he doesn't. Merlin never hesitates to show his disappointment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Practices

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Устоявшаяся практика](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570283) by [krasnoe_solnishko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krasnoe_solnishko/pseuds/krasnoe_solnishko)



> Thank you to [](http://melusinahp.livejournal.com/profile)[**melusinahp**](http://melusinahp.livejournal.com/) for the beta and advice. This was posted as a WIP as part of the [make them do it](http://marguerite-26.livejournal.com/515440.html) fest.
> 
> additional warnings: reference to dub-con/coercion (past and present)
> 
> Originally posted March 9, 2011

"Sire, the king asked me to..." Merlin choked on the rest of the sentence as his eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight to the darkness of the stables. Merlin caught the outline of Arthur mostly hidden along the back wall in late afternoon shadows. He was leaning against a hay bale, his head bent, chin to chest and for a second Merlin thought he might even be asleep until he caught Arthur’s ragged breathing and the distinct wet, sucking noise that came from the silhouette of the new stable boy, Tommy, kneeling at Arthur’s feet, his head bobbing at Arthur’s groin.

"Well," Arthur said, half breathless, half bored. "Surely there’s more to the message than that." Tommy hesitated then moved to pull off, but Arthur’s hand tangled in the boy’s hair, encouraging him on.

Merlin blinked, silenced by incredulity, which quickly by a slow simmering anger. When he found his voice it was curt and raspy. "You are to be in Council this afternoon." His fist clenched and he added, "At your leisure, _Sire_."

Arthur’s head snapped up to catch Merlin’s glare. When Merlin’s turned to leave, Arthur called out. "No." Merlin froze, already knowing what Arthur was about to say before he added, "Wait for me, I’m almost done here."

Merlin didn’t turn around. He stood, hand on the door, waiting and listening. The back of his neck prickled as the sounds seeped into his ear and skittered, unwelcome, over his skin until Arthur’s final grunt followed by the thick sounds of the stable boy choking and swallowing. Merlin heard the jingle of a money sac and he swung open the door, not able to stand it another moment.

He walked quickly back to the castle, bile rising in his throat.

"Merlin!"

He refused to turn or slow. Arthur was a bastard, but he was quick. If he wanted to catch up, he would.

"Dammit, Merlin!" Arthur jogged up beside him, an amused look on his face that raised Merlin’s ire further. "You do know that you’re my servant and I’m not supposed to need to run to catch up with you?"

"Yes, Sire." Merlin stopped and let Arthur pass him. "I’ll be sure to show my deference to your _nobility_."

Arthur turned back to him; his eyes narrowed. "Merlin, you are making a big deal out of something you do not understand."

"I think it’s you that doesn’t understand, _your highness_." Merlin let the sarcasm curl around the honorific. "Tommy is a stable boy, not a whore."

A huff of disbelief puffed from Arthur’s mouth. He put his hands on his hips. "The _boy_ – who is older than you, I’ll have you know – approached me, not the other way around. I wouldn’t... that’s not something I would demand of someone."

Merlin’s cheeks flamed, and he cursed himself for the spike of jealous that had no place at all in the conversation. "Not without proper payment at least."

Arthur gaped. "I wasn't paying him for that! That was just a thank you. It will go a long way to help feed his family. It's how things work, _Merlin_." Arthur shook his head. "You're from a small village. You don't understand how those who have more help those who have less."

"I understand perfectly, Arthur." Merlin tucked his hands to his side to stop their trembling. "I used to be a stable boy in Ealdor. Don't fool yourself into thinking that just because we didn't get any princes stopping by that those who had more didn't _offer to help_ those who had less."

Merlin ran up the steps, not waiting for Arthur’s reply, not wanting to hear it. Arthur didn’t follow.

~o~

Arthur picked at his dinner that night, stoic in a way that leaned more toward brooding than pouting. Merlin served him with a stiff, impeccable politeness that made Arthur wince every time Merlin opened his mouth. If he’d been less angry, Merlin might have appreciated the irony.

Arthur pushed away his half-eaten food and walked over to the fireplace, bracing both hands on the stone mantle as he often did when deep in thought.

"Did you ever—"Arthur cleared his throat, his eyes on the flames. "Were you expected to—" He stopped again.

Merlin waited but nothing else came. Didn’t matter, he knew what Arthur was asking and he felt no compulsion to answer. "Does it bother you, Sire?" If Arthur had asked it of him --if he’d ever so much as _hinted_ that he would accept such attentions -- Merlin would have agreed willingly. But to think of Arthur like the rich travellers who rode into Ealdor and tossed coins at peasants as if men could be purchased, it sat like a brick on his chest.

Arthur’s hands clenched into fists against the mantle. Merlin felt a warm swell of satisfaction as he watched the muscles of Arthur’s jaw work as he gritted his teeth. When he thought the conversation over, Merlin picked up Arthur’s hunting knife and set the whet stone on the table to begin his nightly cleaning routine.

"You are dismissed." The words were quiet, whispers spoken into the hearth.

Merlin put down the knife and looked over to Arthur. "Sire?"

Arthur still didn’t turn, made no indication he’d spoken at all. Merlin questioned whether or not he was hearing things until Arthur said again, "You are dismissed, Merlin. Leave."

~o~

“Sir Leon.” Merlin put down the bucket he’d been carrying in preparation for Arthur’s bath. “You are back from patrol early.”

“A storm’s rolling in and the prince ordered us back before we were caught in it,” Leon said. “Arthur's still in a temper, though. He’s in the stables, if you are looking for him."

Merlin’s stomach plummeted. Jaw set, he stormed over to the stables. Arthur had barely spoken a dozen words combined to Merlin over the course of the week. Merlin's mocking reverence had turned awkward as his rage grew stale and Arthur became more and more impossible to read. He'd catch Arthur looking at him, his lips pressed tight and brow furrowed, only to have Arthur avert his gaze the instant he'd been spotted. He thought he’d made his point, had hoped Arthur had understood and that it was guilt and embarrassment in his eyes.

Merlin opened the stable door, hot with anger and disappointment. His eyes immediately went to the far wall, but found it empty of shadows this time. Instead, he heard voices over by the stall of Arthur’s favourite mare.

“And I’d like her brushed down morning and night. It will be outside of your regular duties here, you understand. I want you to take good care of her.” Arthur panted the mare’s neck as he spoke. “It’s Tommy, isn’t it?”

Tommy stood a little taller, and Merlin was a bit surprised to remember that Tommy was actually older than he was. He was smaller, thinner and had a face that was always smudged with dirt. “Yes, Sire! Tommy.”

“You treat her well, Tommy.” Arthur tossed a small sac over.

Tommy’s hand sunk at the weight of it before he raising his hand and looking at the bulging sac with wide eyes. “Sire?”

Arthur’s gaze was still on his mare, though Merlin was sure his mind was elsewhere. “Just do your job well.”

“Thank you, Sire.” Tommy’s voice was high with emotion. “Right away, Sire.”

Merlin’s chest swelled as he watched a smile spread on Arthur’s face at Tommy’s enthusiasm. Arthur wasn’t perfect, but for a man full of pride and smug confidence to be willing to listen, to be willing to change – it made him a man worth serving. Merlin cleared his throat then and both sets of eyes snapped over to the door. “Why don’t you go tell your mother, Tommy? I’m sure she’ll be thrilled that you have such an important job to do for the prince.”

Tommy bounced on the balls of his feet as he turned to Arthur, who nodded his permission.

The minute they were alone, Merlin pinned Arthur with a heated gaze and stalked forward until he was pushing Arthur against the stable wall.

“Merlin, what do you think you are doing?” Arthur stammered. Merlin gave him another shove and his back smacked against the wood.

“I’m going to show you the difference between someone who does this because they want to, rather than because they are getting paid to.” Before Arthur could reply, Merlin knelt at his feet.

The hay was rough, scratching at Merlin's knees. He closed his eyes and let the pleasure of the act overtake him. It was one of his favourite acts -- the inherent power of it when consensual never failed to turn him on.

He tugged at Arthur’s lacings. It was a task Arthur had never once asked him to perform, always tending to the most intimate part of dressing behind a privacy screen. He took his time, mouthing along the soft, worn material of Arthur’s smalls, nuzzling the warm bulge and capturing the heavy scent of Arthur.

“God, Merlin. What are you—“ Arthur choked out a breathless gasp as Merlin slid his smalls out of the way and placed an open-mouthed kiss on Arthur’s still soft cock.

Merlin stopped playing then as he felt Arthur’s knees go weak and his fingers fly to Merlin’s hair like it was the only thing keeping him standing. Pleased, he gently sucked Arthur’s cock into his mouth, relishing the weight of it as it thickened with each stroke of his tongue. He worked him at a steady, achingly slow pace. He loved the drag of Arthur’s breath, knowing Arthur wouldn’t forget this, needing Arthur to remember every second of it.

“I can’t –“

“Fuck my mouth,” Merlin rasped and let his jaw go slack and his throat relax.

“Yes. God, Merlin.”

Arthur pounded his throat, reckless and wild. Merlin’s eyes watered, yet his fingers dug into Arthur’s hips, egging him faster, deeper.

“Fuck.” Arthur cried out in a broken sob as he trembled and filled Merlin’s mouth. Merlin choked and swallowed all he could, wiping the excess from his chin as he stood.

Arthur looked at him wide-eyed. It was too tempting, his mouth gaping and expression oddly innocent. Merlin kissed him while he carefully tugged up Arthur’s breeches and re-laced him. It snapped Arthur from his daze.

“Those men who made you—“ Arthur’s brow furrowed and he shook his head as though to chase away the image.

“No, Arthur. We were never so desperate for bread or gold,” Merlin said and Arthur’s expression relaxed. “But I knew many who were that desperate. Where a few minutes debasement meant the difference between surviving the winter or not.”

Arthur bowed his head and muttered, “I can’t stop people from being poor.”

“No. But you can be honourable in how you share your wealth.”

“I hadn’t considered...”

“I _know_ , Arthur.” It felt good to use the name again. “It’s a common practice. Anyone who works in stables knows the fastest way to earn their next meal.”

“It won’t be any longer. Not for the knights of Camelot.”

Merlin pressed his lips to Arthur’s again, a soft touch with a couple gentle licks of his tongue. Arthur moaned and began to melt under the touch. Merlin pulled away long enough to say, “It’s an honour to serve you, Sire,” before deepening the kiss into something they would soon need to take elsewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> [Link back to Livejournal](http://marguerite-26.livejournal.com/517061.html)


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